


Tired

by KiaMianara



Series: The Difficulties of being stuck on a mud ball [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kind of happy ending, M/M, Suicide Attempt, mild dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:50:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaMianara/pseuds/KiaMianara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Would be murder or suicide, if Starscream would try to shoot himself with Megatron in his gun form and if Megatron would actually let him end his life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Koilungfish‘s pic "[Suicide](http://koilungfish.deviantart.com/art/suicide-18709342)"
> 
> [lengfeilee](http://www.fanfiction.net/~lengfeilee) translated the story into Chinese. You can find [here](http://14856828.blog.hexun.com/56903082_d.html) and [here](http://hi.baidu.com/rixianglengfei/blog/item/02658a109a455c0f203f2e13.html)
> 
> The title originates from a German saying/question “bist du lebensmüde?” (literally: “are you tired of life/suicidal?”). It's commonly used when someone does something really stupid and/or dangerous, but in this case I'm referring to the very literal meaning of being “tired of life” and ... do you know the feeling you could just shoot yourself or jump down a bridge and no one would really care?  
> Yeah, let's just say the story is from 2008 and I was in a really bad spot back then, but I'm better now.
> 
> There is some dub-con in this story that could border on rape. I didn't use the archive warning, because the characters involved don't persive it as such, but the point remains that they didn't check first if it was really a consentual act and that's not okay. Always make sure that everyone involved is okay with everything that's happening. A lack of "no" or "stop" or complains doesn't equal "yes" and I'm not just referring to sex. Seriously, the shit I put up with, just because I didn't want to be a "spoilsport".
> 
> Well, enough rambling. Imagine a creative disclaimere here about me not owning the charactes and not makeing any money with this (which is a pity) and I'd love to hear what you think about the story. Just, uh, have mercy. That was the first smut I ever wrote and I haven't gotten more practice since then.

* * *

 

He couldn’t say what had changed, or when it had started, but at one point Starscream noticed things weren’t the same any more. No one else noticed, though. To them it was just the same old same old. They would argue, argue more and after some more arguments they would resort to violence that more often than not send Starscream into the med bay and Megatron in a foul mood for at least three orns straight. On rare occasions the Decepticon leader, too, would be in need of a few minor repairs, but even that wouldn’t fall under `unusual´, because just a few orns later the procedure would repeat itself in a seemingly endless loop without a change. It had been that way for a long time already, only that now it was wasting the air commander away.

 

Maybe all the `you failed me yet again´ had finally gotten to him, that was after all exactly what he _didn’t_ want to be, a failure, but why now? Why did it hurt now when the many vorns before it had only fuelled his will to become better, stronger?

 

Or was it the realisation that he would _never_ be good or strong enough, always only the second, but never the leader?

 

No, that wasn’t it, couldn’t be since he didn’t really want to be leader anyway. He actually had no problem with Megatron being more powerful than him, but he had a problem with being looked down upon, pitied, and that was all he got from Megatron: pitiful looks from down his throne. It was either pity or his anger and the seeker preferred the anger, even when it was served with pain and had cost him the trust once put in him.

 

Now he wondered, if it really was worth the effort.

 

Megatron would never change, would never give him the attention he longed for, and in this very moment Starscream, standing in the middle of just another battlefield with the Autobots, because of just another detected attempt to steal energy from the humans, realised he had no will to fight any longer. What for anyway? The Decepticon cause? What a joke. They wouldn’t be able to restore Cybertron, let alone conquer the universe.

 

Maybe he could find a reason to fight among the Autobots, there was always something to protect after all, but they wouldn’t want him and he wouldn’t want them to want him either. He wasn’t like them, but for what should he fight, for what should he _live_ for then?

 

“Starscream!”

 

Used to the procedure the air commander caught his leader turned gun, but instead of shooting right away he just stared at the weapon.

 

“Fire you fool!”

 

Fool, traitor, scrap metal, coward, all those insults echoed in Starscream’s head, making him raise the gun to optic-level. For a moment longer he stared at it, then he pressed the riffle to his own head, exactly where it would cause the most damage to his personality and memory chips, where the damage would most likely wipe out everything that he was irreparably, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

 

Nothing happened. No one noticed. No one cared.

 

Starscream pulled the trigger again without success, growing frustrated when even the fifth attempt was fruitless.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” was his only thought before a shudder warned him of his leader transforming back into his bipedal form.

 

Megatron didn’t even look at his second when he grabbed his wrist and pulled him along while ordering his troops to retreat.

 

The air commander didn’t struggle. What for anyway? He would get blamed for the failed mission, probably be in for another beating and end up in the med bay again. The same old same old. Why should he bother and try to change it when it obviously was his fate? It would go on like that until someone, be it deity or mortal, Autobot, Decepticon or human, for all he cared, finally put him out of his misery for good anyway, because obviously wasn’t he allowed to choose for himself when it was time to go.

 

He was dragged into the Nemesis, but surprisingly not into a meeting room or another public area – to add humiliation to the pain – but into Megatron’s private chambers. The Decepticon Leader locked the door behind them and laid, not threw but _laid,_ the seeker almost gently onto the large recharge berth.

 

The seeker couldn’t even start to worry about what was going on before the larger mech was already on top of him, pinning him down with the same strength he forced their lips together. He let his free hand roam over the sleek body beneath him, concentrating on the seeker’s wings that were known to be especially sensitive, demanding, but without causing any pain.

 

Having been prepared for pain but not pleasure Starscream hit overload before he could even get a full gasp of what was going on.

 

Shivering in the aftermath and panting in an attempt to support his overtaxed vents the flier tried to at least decide, if he approved of the situation, but Megatron never stopped caressing his chassis, only now his movements were more controlled. He took his sweet time to map out each part of the soon again writhing seeker, his surprisingly soft lips following an invisible path, licking and nipping sensitive wires his servos had found earlier.

 

Starscream couldn’t mute a mewl when his wings were attacked again and he had to hold onto the larger mech – when had his hands been released anyway – in order to not lose himself.

 

It felt so good to be the centre of Megatron’s undivided attention without having to fear his temper. And how long had it been since anyone had caressed him like that?

 

It wasn’t that he had gone without any attention since they left Cybertron. They were soldiers at war and interfacing was the most effective way to reassure each other they were still alive. All of them did it now and then, but this was different. The first time had been about despair, but now it was about only him. Megatron’s servos and tongue seemed to _worship_ his very existence and all the seeker could do was hold onto the broad shoulders and moan and wither and for once beg the other would never stop. Not that the silver coloured mech was in any condition to do so, guessing from the frantic speed his own cooling system was working with.

 

Only for a short moment he hesitated in his actions, to search in Starscream’s optics for the answer to a question he didn’t dare to speak out loud, hand ghosting so very close to the seekers codpiece.

 

At this point the flier was almost too far gone to back out anyway, but the simple realisation that Megatron would _let_ him go, should he choose so, pushed him all the way to the point of no return. Nodding to show his agreement he guided Megatron’s hand the last inches, doing his own designation all honour when the delicate wiring was revealed and every air-movement sent pleasant shocks through his neural network.

 

The silver-grey Decepticon didn’t hesitate a second time when he removed their codpieces and carefully connected their interface cables. The intensity of the connection almost made Starscream overload again, but between the irritating warnings of overheating processors and burning passion he remembered Megatron hadn’t had his overload yet and he was eager to at least make him come first this time. Forgotten was that outside this room they were meant to be commander and second, meant to argue over any- and everything, but it was in their fights that he had discovered some rather sensitive spots he now mapped out with feather light touches.

 

The feedback of Megatron’s overload pushed him over the edge as well.

 

***~*~*~*~***

When Starscream regained consciousness again he was very tempted to put the whole last day down as the most bizarre dream he had ever had, only that he then would have to be still in recharge, dreaming about waking up cradled against Megatron’s chest after two mind-blowing overloads.

 

“Next time you feel like pulling such an astronomically stupid stunt you come here, is that understood?”

 

It was neither a question nor an order, but it bore the promise that nothing of the outside world would mean anything in here as long as no one ever got to know about it and the seeker found he could just live with that very well. In fact, he was already starting to feel more like his old self again, but the passionate kiss he got as a reply to his first, light mockery in days he would have to get used to first.

 

“As you wish, lover.”

 

**END**


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